One Purple Shovel

This morning I got up at 5:30 a.m.  I opened the garage door to just make sure my driveway had been plowed as I had asked. "Jiminy Cricket," I said.  No, I swore a blue streak when I saw snow drifts up to  my waist.  I put on my snow pants and started shoveling.  That is right.  I shoveled. My purple shovel and I started shoveling the great quantity of snow.  The snow was brilliant white and not very heavy.  I made quick progress. After an hour I took a break for coffee and oatmeal. Then I went back out there and finished up. The path I shoveled was exactly as wide as a Honda. I had the foresight to park in the garage so I was facing out so I could barrel out of there and take the curve at a good speed.  When the driveway was finished I got dressed, packed my lunch, and headed out. I proceeded down the driveway and the closer I got to the road the happier I got.  That's right folks.  One woman and one purple shovel earned a bravo.  Is that the end of the story? No, the end of the story was at 6:30 p.m. when I was talking to my neighbor.  I showed her the little snow person I had formed in the turn around area of the driveway. What what to my wondering eyes should appear but a snow plower.  He shoved that snow person up and over. In one minute he did more than my purple shovel and I could do in 90 minutes. Oh, the irony, it hurts.